The Benevolent Mask
by PrintDust
Summary: Continuation of 'Faulty Benevolence' from 3X09. Maybe Hell was rusted rotting pipes- drip, drip, dripping, lying in your own caked blood, and hope just a little out of reach. What if Lori survived? Explores multiple POVs.
1. Chapter 1

This Part 2 of my 'Benevolent Series'. Part 1 is posted under, 'Faulty Benevolence' on my profile.

* * *

Beth picked up Judith from the wooden crate next to Lori's bed, sharing a smile with the mother of the wailing infant. She settled the baby into the crook of her arm and fixed the soft yellow blanket that she had been wrapped in. "You hush now," she said firmly, embarrassed that the baby wasn't settling down. She looked to Lori to see her reaction, in case she thought that Beth was doing something wrong to her daughter. "Sorry," she apologized, biting her lower lip.

Lori's smile didn't dim as she sat up, wincing with the movement. "Don't be," she shrugged. "Babies cry." Her matter of fact tone relaxed the teenager who added a small bounce to her rocking motion.

"Maybe she is hungry," Beth suggested, starting to hand the baby to her mother- she paused when Lori moved to settle against the wall at the back of her bunk, her pretty features scrunched with the effort. "You okay?"

"I just fed her not too long ago," Lori's chin dipped. "She probably just wants to be snuggled," the mother indicated the baby with her hand that wasn't holding onto her week old incision. "See? You're a natural."

Beth looked down to the newborn who had settled against her and turned to jelly. Her little limbs had gone slack as she allowed herself to be draped across Beth's forearm. At the older woman's praise, the corners of her mouth turned upwards. She liked looking after the baby; it made her feel like she was really contributing to the group- like she finally had a purpose. She was especially proud that Lori thought that she was doing a good job. It had been a long time since she had had that kind of assurance. At the realization she felt a small twinge in her heart at the loss of her own mother.

"Do you think you could do me a favour, sweetie?" Lori asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Beth stepped forward, eager and willing to help. She hadn't had much success becoming strong and skilled at fighting weapons like Maggie and Carol had. She could barely aim the little revolver that she had taken to carrying around. But when she was with Lori, she felt like she wasn't totally useless.

"Would you mind getting me one of those bottles that Daryl brought back? Are they washed?"

"We used them to feed the baby before you woke up," Beth explained, already heading towards the common area. "Be right back."

Beth took the few short steps that led her towards the other room where her father and Carl were speaking with the newcomers. She met eyes with Carl to make sure that it was safe for her to go in, especially with the baby. He responded by opening the bars for her to make her way through. She crossed the open area quickly, holding Judith close to her, carefully avoiding eye-contact with the strangers who were scattered around the room.

"How old is the baby?" Someone asked from over her shoulder just as she reached the table and began looking through the supplies for the bottle that Lori had requested. She could hear the person approaching her from behind and she stiffened a little. They hadn't had much luck with others and she felt wary of them. She scolded herself for being so timid- for not being brave and fearless like Maggie.

Her father answered the question, his slow drawl helping her to relax a little. "Barely even a week."

"To be honest we never thought we'd see another baby," the young woman's voice was heavy with awe and Beth smiled at the sound. It did feel odd to her still sometimes when she looked at the tiny girl's face and felt her fresh baby-soft skin. Lori had been right, the baby was just what they all needed to feel more hopeful. "She's beautiful."

The voice was directly behind her now, forcing Beth to meet the young woman's eyes. "Thanks," she answered shyly. It felt strange to be accepting a compliment for something that she had no part in.

"How are you feeling?"

At the question Beth felt her eyes widen. She glanced at her daddy, embarrassed that someone would think that she had… "She's not mine," she shook her head, her words coming out with an air of defensiveness. She looked to Carl next for a second to catch the teasing grin that split his features and she felt her cheeks flush red.

"Where is her mother?" The African American woman asked, her voice soft as she inspected the baby. Beth, still too flustered to formulate a ready answer hesitated as did the rest of the group- she wondered if for the same reason. "Sorry," the girl took a step back, her stiff posture clearly uncomfortable with her supposed revelation.

Beth shook her head again, finally taking her tongue back from the cat. "She's isn't-," her words trailed off and her brow furrowed as Carl's expression shifted and he dropped his head, hiding his face beneath the brim of his hat. "The woman before. That fainted? That's her. I should get back to her," Beth filled them in, heading towards the bars that would take her back to their row of cells and Lori.

"Is she alright?" She prodded further as Carl stepped over to unlock the doors, juggling the large ring of keys and his gun. Beth wished he wouldn't do that- he was going to take his own eye out one day… or worse.

Carl paused, meeting Beth's eyes. "For now," he answered, his voice steady as he held her concerned gaze. After a moment he broke eye-contact with her and proceeded to open the door for her.

"Was it a difficult birth?"

Her father turned to watch her as she slipped through the bars and waited for Carl to lock them behind her. "An emergency caesarean," he answered, tidying up the medical supplies on the desk before him.

Their discussion faded away as she made her way over to Lori's cell where she found her still leaning against the wall, her head dropped back to rest against the chipped concrete . Her eyes were closed and Beth felt a chill run through her as Carl's straight-faced declaration came back to her. "Lori?" She prodded.

Lori's green eyes opened and her face lifted into a smile when she accepted the extended bottle. "Thanks," she inspected the bottle for a moment as though considering it. When she lifted her eyes again Beth recognized her expression as one that was trying to buy time until she was alone.

"Oh! Do you want me to," Beth indicated over her shoulder with her thumb, already starting to turn to leave.

"You are welcome to stay if you want," Lori spoke up. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to, that's all. I am going to try to express some milk, to make it easier for feedings when I am not up to it."

Beth considered her options briefly before taking a small breath, taking a seat on the bunk beside Lori. She reminded herself that she was an adult now, and that she shouldn't feel embarrassed about breasts. Carol had helped Lori bathe… and Maggie had birthed the baby. There was no reason to be bashful. Trying to remain casual she concentrated on Judith and lifted the baby to her shoulder. She listened to Lori's clothes rustling and then curiousity overwhelmed her and she glanced up.

Lori caught her shift in gaze and looked up to meet her eyes. She chuckled softly and looked back down at her chest. "They're huge, I know."

Beth felt her cheeks flush and she quickly averted her gaze to the floor. "Does it hurt?" She cleared her throat and lifted her eyes again to look up and see Lori shake her head.

"It's uncomfortable, when the baby doesn't have much of an appetite and I get full," she explained softly, her voice holding a maturity and confidence that Beth wished that she could have. There was something… attractive about it. "This will help," Lori continued. "If I can figure out how to do it- where is Google when you need it?"

Beth laughed at the joke and turned more, swinging her legs around to cross them in front of her so that she was facing Lori. It was difficult with the baby but she managed to get comfortable. "What's it like to have a baby? Someone that is, like, part of you?"

Lori's eyebrows raised as she considered the question, when she raised her head her eyes were warm. "It's beautiful," she answered sincerely. "But it's scary too, because you want to keep them safe and protect them, but then they grow up and want to find their own way in the world and you have to let them go." She sighed heavily. "Sometimes long before you're ready to."

Beth listened to her words and thought about Carl and how much he had grown since she first met him all those months before. She had grown too, since her mother had died, but now she felt stuck. "I was going to have sex with Jimmy," she disclosed timidly, her voice shaking as she said the words out loud. "But we didn't… because I was scared of what God would think- that I would disappoint him, and daddy too. That I would go to Hell." She laughed nervously, resting her cheek against Judith's soft downy hair. "Guess that was silly, since we're already there."

Her confession hung between them and Beth wondered for a moment that she had said too much. That Lori wouldn't understand. She relaxed when Lori pulled her shirt closed and reached over to touch Beth's cheek with the hand that she had been using to hold the bottle. She could tell the older woman wanted to say something, but she was clearly at a loss for words. Her eyes were filled with understanding, though, and Beth recognized that there was no judgment there.

"Do you think Carl thinks that way?" Lori finally asked.

Beth shifted. "About sex?" She asked.

Lori dropped her hand and picked up the quarter-filled bottle again. "That he missed out? That there is nothing better coming?"

Feeling like a fish in a fishbowl Beth opened and closed her mouth while she searched for the right answer. Her father's voice over her shoulder interrupted their conversation and she breathed a grateful sigh. "I should go," she passed Judith to her mother and made her escape.


	2. Chapter 2

Carl ran the butt of his gun over the cell bars as he walked along the upstairs row and headed back down to the perch where Carol was hanging laundry to dry. She seemed to be a weird mood since the group had left, and he kept catching her looking out the two story windows towards the edge of the yard. He figured she was worried about Daryl and the rest - they all were. They had been gone a really long time and he was starting to give up hope that they would be coming back.

Downstairs he heard Hershel ask Beth and Axel to get the shovels that Glenn had left by T's grave outside. Carl agreed that it would be a good idea for them to bury their woman before she started to stink. They were all pretty used to the smell of rotting corpses, but it had been kind of nice not having any in their cellblock.

As he descended the steps that took him onto the perch he caught Carol looking outside again. "Wanna take a walk?" he offered, stopping beside her. He peered over the edge of the washing bucket and scrunched his nose at the bloody dirty water that smelled like armpits. "Gross."

"Try being elbow deep in it," Carol looked over at him, offering him a teasing smile. Suddenly her hand shot up and she flicked droplets of the water at him.

Carl swiped at his face. "Disgusting," he muttered, but he couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe we can meet them at the gate and do a sweep of the perimeter while we are there."

Carol pulled a sleeveless shirt out of the water and squeezed it before tossing it over the railing to dry. He followed her, stopping to pick up the washing bucket on their way down the stairs. "Carl Grimes you are growing up just fine," she told him, squeezing his shoulders affectionately.

"Mom," he paused at the opening to her cell where she was feeding his sister, her fingers ticking the baby's feet to keep her from falling asleep. His mom had shown him that trick and he thought it was cute the way her little toes curled like a monkey. When he had her attention he continued to speak. "I'm going outside with Carol for a bit."

She nodded, offering him a small smile that showed that she was grateful that he had stopped by to let her know. He looked her over again, taking in her pale face and tired expression and then dropped his eyes to his feet. If his dad didn't come back they were - _fucked _. If anything happened he wouldn't be able to hold the place on his own with just Hershel and Axel.

"You need anything before I go?" Carl asked, taking a step into the cell, his head tilting as he inspected his baby sister. She seemed bigger already. "She's longer," Carl looked up to meet his mom's eyes. "And chubbier," he said the last part with a tiny smirk.

His mom laughed and squeezed one of the baby's squishy forearms. "They get like this for a bit just after they're born," she told him, her voice affectionate and amused. "You were a little porker at five-weeks-old," she laughed at Carl's offended expression. "I had to wear a sling to hold you up; my arms would get so tired."

Carl scoffed at her teasing. "That's so not true."

"It is," Lori nodded, still chuckling at his expense. "You were a cute baby. The cutest."

Instead of answering he turned his eyes back to the baby, just taking a moment to listen to the sound of his mother's laughter. He knew that all bets were off and maybe soon it would be time to say goodbye again.

Carl left her cell with those thoughts hanging heavily in his mind as he met up with Carol and they made their way outside to make sure that the yard was still secure. Out in the main area, just by the door, Tyrese and his people were wrapping the dead woman's body and preparing it to be buried. He looked at the young boy that they were with who was probably about Beth's age. He wondered if that was the woman's son, and if he was, had he been a good son to her? He wondered if the boy had regrets about things that he had said or done to her. How it felt to really never get the chance to change them.

Carl remembered reading books and watching cartoons where the good guy, or the bad guy went through something awful and then changed. They learned a lesson and became a better person. He thought maybe after everything that had happened with his mom that he would be changed too. Like he would evolve or something, kind of like a Pokémon. Except that he didn't feel much different at all. Instead he just kept making the same mistakes and doing the same wrong things over and over again.

Maybe he was just a piece of shit son or stupid and couldn't learn. He sighed at that idea - that was just depressing to think about. Both of his parents deserved better than that. He needed to be better than that for Beth and Judith.

"What are you thinkin' about over there?" Carol asked as they reached the double gate. She turned to look at him, arms crossed and the sun glinting in her silver hair.

He shrugged and stepped around her to check that the gate was still chained. "Nothin'." Over his shoulder he caught the furrow of her brow as she looked him over.

"Somethin' happen with your mom?" her shoes crunched on the ground as she made her way over to join him. They fell into step with one another and he shrugged again, because he wasn't really sure how to answer the question. Nothing had really happened today, no, but at the same time something had _been_ happening for a long time and he wasn't sure if that counted.

Carol stopped to take a deep breath, her eyes closed as she tilted her face up to absorb the warm sunlight. After a moment she opened one grey eye to peer at him, her face lifted into a wry pixie-like smile. "It's so quiet," she commented, shaking her head at the thought. "It's easy to forget how loud the world used to be."

Carl turned to her, his interest peaking at her tone of voice. He could still remember the first time he met her - she was shy and scared all the time. Super quiet, especially around her mean ugly husband. Sophia had been the same way, but she hadn't had a chance to relax like Carol. She hadn't had a chance to learn that even though the world sucked, it was still kind of cool to be alive and trying new things. She hadn't gotten to really find a family with the rest of the group the way he had. It was weird to think that she would just be thirteen forever.

"I used to complain about it: traffic, cars," Carol's voice tilted. "Noise pollution," she punctuated the words with a small chuckle. "What I wouldn't give for the sweet sound of a… jumbo jet."

Carl looked at the ground, suddenly feeling guilty for thinking about Sophia and sad things again while Carol was trying to cheer him up and have a normal conversation. "It would be - be even sweeter if we were all on it," he added, cringing a little at the way his words caught awkwardly. He rolled his eyes at himself and wondered when he was going to stop being so weird and start being cool like his dad or Daryl. _Hell_, he would take Hershel at this point. The old man was kind of annoying, but at least he always had _something_ to say and he could get it out without his voice breaking like a nerd.

Carol sighed softly and the mood between them shifted to a more serious one. He braced himself for what she would say before she even opened her mouth. "Your mom is proud of you," she told him, tilting her head down to meet his eyes.

Carl almost laughed at the idea. People kept saying it, so it was either true or total bullshit. People always said things that they wanted to be true over and over again, like repeating it would somehow make it not a lie anymore. "For what?" he scoffed. "For being mean to her?"

"No," Carol shook her head. "You can't think about that."

"It's all I think about," he answered. Self-doubt flooded through him and made him want to walk away from her before she could see it. How could he not think about that when he could never get those months back? Sure he had a chance to change now and be better, but he couldn't just erase everything else. Life wasn't a computer that he could restart when shit got messed up.

"You have a second chance now," Carol patted his shoulder. "To start fresh."

Carl laughed and raised his eyes to meet hers. "No such thing as starting over. You just get to add more mistakes until someone dies and then you live with it-." His train of thought was disrupted by the sound of tires spinning on at the bent road ahead. "Please be them," he muttered, jogging over the fence to look out as far as he could see. When the green car appeared he felt his heart leap into his chest and he scrambled to unlock the gate.

The car passed him easily then stopped so his dad could climb out. Carl listened to him give orders to the people still inside as he waited on his toes for him to have a second. His dad looked over for the most part as he skidding over to him and he was suddenly pulled into a hug where wet kisses were pressed to his shoulder and then the side of his head. Carl finished the hug before wiping the slobber off his cheek.

"Where's Hershel?" his father asked, jumping back into business mode.

Carl answered, some of his excitement deflating. From the look on his father's and Carol's faces, it was easy to see that something had gone down. "In the cellblock," he answered quickly.

"Where's Daryl?" Carol asked, peering inside the car as he rolled out towards the prison building.

XXXX

As the three of them walked back to the prison, Carl took a peek at Carol who was under his dad's arm on the other side of himself. His dad's arm was draped over his shoulder too and he liked the heavy assurance of its weight. The woman looked so sad and it made Carl feel bad for her. He felt like he wanted to say something to her about Daryl not coming back, to make her feel better somehow, but he didn't really know what to say.

Instead he looked to his dad and waited for him to give her some comfort, but it didn't come. His dad looked worn out and beaten down as he trudged forward, like he didn't have any comfort at all to offer anyone else. Carl frowned at that thought. If his dad didn't even have anything to offer then how would he ever learn how to say the right thing?

Carl remembered when he was a kid and how he would play a board game called Snakes and Ladders with his mom. Every time he would make it up to the next level he would roll the dice the wrong way and end up all the way at the bottom again. He frowned and looked at his dusty shoes. Suddenly his dad's arm felt too heavy.


	3. Chapter 3

As Rick stepped away from his conversation with Hershel, he struggled to get a firm grip on his own emotions. He felt disoriented and exhausted after the events of the last week and his brain was on the verge of throwing in the towel. He strode through the prison quickly, ignoring the strangers who he had been made aware of - he didn't have it in him to deal with yet another complication after an already difficult day.

After losing Daryl and Oscar he felt a sense of hopelessness settle over him. They'd picked a fight with a heavily armed and clearly well organized group, and though they had come out on top this time he knew this would not be the last they heard from Woodbury or its Governor. Without Daryl they were one too many men down.

He entered their cell block in time to see Beth coming down the stairs, his little daughter in her arms. The baby cooed softly showing her contentment; she had been changed since he last saw her and she seemed bigger already, filling up Beth's arms. He wondered if Beth had been doing most of the work taking care of the new baby. A quick glance in the direction of Lori's cell confirmed that she was resting in the shadow-filled room. He could barely make out the shape of her pale hand draped over the side of the bed, unmoving.

Beth met him at the bottom of the stairs, a small smile playing on her lips as she presented him with Judith. "She kind has Lori's eyes, don't ya think?" the young woman asked, passing the baby over to him.

Rick accepted the infant who immediately began to fuss in his hands as he held her up to peer into her eyes. She'd barely had them open when he'd last seen her, so he hadn't had an opportunity to get a good look at them. Holding her at eye-level he squinted at her mossy green irises that were painted with a hint of brown around her pupils. Judith's light fussing turned to loud cries and she pitched forward toward his chest, her legs straining, unhappy with her dangling position.

Rick balanced her again and continued to look into her eyes as she scrunched her nose and wailed. Flipping her onto her back, he laid her on the crook of one of his bent arms, and then secured her in place with the other. Her wailing seemed to intensify, blocking out every other sound in the room, filling his ears with splitting intensity as a migraine crept around the back of his skull then up into his temples.

The feeling of hopelessness and fear gripped him again as he stared at her, at a loss for what he could possibly do for this tiny person who was dependent on him. What he could do for any of these people who looked to him to keep them safe. He hadn't been able to protect Jim, or Amy; Dale, Shane, Patricia, or Sophia, T-dog. He'd failed so many already… Lori, again and again in a million different ways.

The roaring of the baby in his ears stabbed his temple, blinding him and he looked up as a flash of white flickered in his periphery over Beth's shoulders. He traced the visage of flowing white silk for a split second before he blinked and it disappeared. Though it had gone from his sight he could still see it, burned into his retinas.

"That doesn't make sense," he muttered, his voice scratchy and barely above a whisper. He blinked again, the action bringing Beth's large concerned blue eyes into focus. He glanced at Carl next to him, then looked down at the wriggling baby in his arms. "Rick?" Beth asked, reaching out to lay her hand on the baby's tummy.

"I uhh…" he let her take Judith from him and his arms dropped heavily to his sides. "I guess I…" The platform behind her remained empty and he reached up to rub his itchy eyes.

"You look tired, Rick," Beth tilted her head. "I've got Judith," she offered him a warm smile.

Nodding, he patted the girl on the shoulder then turned to his son. Carl looked up at him expectantly, though Rick had nothing left to say to him. Reaching up he touched the boy's cheek, then stiffly walked away from the teenagers, ignoring the feeling of their eyes lingering on his back.

Lori's cell was filled with the sound of heavy but steady breathing. He hesitated in the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The darkness eased the pulsing of his head to a small degree. Lori slept on her side, a book draped over her hip, the spine cracked to the page where she had left off - an old habit that was apparently dying hard. He stepped closer to her and picked up the book, an aged hardback with yellowed pages, its type-print smudged in the corners where thumbs had worn away the ink. The swirled goldleaf font on the cover weaved the name _Edgar Allan Poe: A Collection. _Rick turned the book over again and scanned the page that his wife had been reading: _The Tell-Tale Heart. _He snapped the covers together and tossed the book onto the top shelf.

Lori stirred in her sleep and pulled her outstretched arm towards her chest. Her eyelids flickered and he held his breath, watching her features twitch then relax again. She opened her eyes a moment later and took a deep breath, her hand moving to rest against her abdomen. "Rick?" she asked, lifting her head to look up at him. "Baby, you're back."

He nodded and toed his shoes off. His feet smelled almost as bad as his shirt; he hadn't bathed or changed his clothes in days. Lori didn't seem to notice as she reached for his hand and curled her fingers around his wrist. "Come," she whispered, tugging his hand ever so slightly.

Rick unbuttoned his shirt then pushed his off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. He climbed over her, careful not to put any of his weight on her or move her too much in the process. When he settled behind her she found his hands and pulled them around her, pulling his chest to her back. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and breathed her in, her soft hair tickled his nose and he sighed.

"Maggie? Glenn?" Lori asked, turning her face to see him.

He nodded his answer to her inquiry and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, building up the courage to say the next part aloud. "We lost Oscar… and Daryl." Unable to look as her, he laid his forehead against her shoulder blade and continued. "We ran into Merle, he's alive. Daryl wouldn't come - I tried to convince him, but he wouldn't come back without his brother."

"I'm sure you did your absolute best," Lori whispered, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

He closed his eyes against her words. "Guess that just isn't good enough, huh."

"Baby, I wish I could share this burden with you. I wish I could take it all away and fix it," she kept her eyes forward and hugged his arms tighter.

Unable to formulate a response he stared unseeing at the freckles on her shoulder and he and listened to her soft breathing. He could feel her pulse beating under his fingers where they rested against the inside of her slim wrist. At the steady thrumming, his eyes began to drift closed as the world faded away, her pulse constant and hypnotic. He blinked slowly then forced his eyes open again - they were so heavy that he could barely lift them.

The small cell eased in and out of darkness. He was about to fall asleep when a flash of white crossed his blurred vision. His eyes shot open, jerking him into alertness. They darted around the room, searching for the figure that had disappeared. Heart hammering in his chest he climbed out of bed, his limbs trembling with fear.

He looked down at Lori, asleep on the bunk. His fingers twitched as his skin began to cool, no longer absorbing the heat of the slight throbbing of her heart rate. Though he couldn't feel it anymore the sound of it echoed in his ears, drumming…

_Thud Thud Thud Thud_

He covered his ears with his hands to block it out, but it was suddenly joined by Judith's piercing cries the sound of gunfire and a phone.

_Ring Ring Ring_

He shuddered and looked towards the large barred windows opposite the cell to see that it had become night. The figure stood there, cast in shadows, her long white dress touching the floor at his feet. He looked between her and Lori, who still slept peacefully on the bed.

"Rick," Hershel's voice startled him and he looked up at the old man standing in the doorway, propped up on his crutches. "Are you alright?"

Rick nodded, swallowing hard. The prison had gone quiet again aside from Lori's breathing and the gentle sounds of the group moving around in the other room.

"I need to check on the woman… Michonne," Hershel drawled, looking Rick over. "Thought you might like to be there for that."

No one had slept much after Rick's breakdown the night before. They had all retired to their respective cells, but there had been a distinct buzz in the block that made it clear that they were not sleeping. Lori wondered if they were afraid of him - if they thought he was so far gone that he would hurt them. Beth had filled her in on the events that had occurred after she'd fallen asleep. Based on the young woman's account it had had gone down pretty badly; she was surprised she had slept through it.

When the other's had emerged the next morning, bleary eyed and under-rested, they had split off to carry on with their designated chores. No one approached her husband who hadn't left the common area all night. She had tried to convince him to come to bed, but he had refused and ignored her, his eyes fixed, hard and expectantly just over her shoulder.

She sighed and closed her own tired eyes, hoping to rest them for a few moments and collect herself enough to tackle the day. She knew she needed to be strong for him - for everyone. "Come on, sweetie," she encouraged and repositioned her daughter on her breast. The baby fussed and arched her back, refusing to latch on. Lori knew that the baby was likely sensing her turbulent emotions and it was putting the tiny girl on edge. She tried to relax her muscles, but they remained tense and knotted and the baby kept fussing.

In the other room she heard Glenn announce that they needed to have a meeting to discuss their plan. Giving up on trying to get her cranky daughter to eat, Lori got to her feet and slipped out into the open area of the cell-block. She moved past the small cluster that was their group and entered the common room where Rick was still pacing, his hands clasped at the back of his head. He looked like a caged tiger and the sight struck fear in her heart.

Exhaustion pulled at her at the thought of even trying to engage him in discussion again, but she knew with a quick glance around the room that it would have to be her. "Rick, baby," she tried, keeping her voice soft so she wouldn't startle him.

"Get out," he ordered, keeping his back to her. He dropped his hands to his sides, his right one coming to rest on the butt of his gun.

Ignoring him, she continued to approach him, though she kept her distance as she rounded him to that she could see his face. He looked exhausted, and she wondered when the last time he had slept was. Dark circles bruised his eyes and he looked pale and sallow. "You look like shit," she told him bluntly, hoping to illicit some kind of a reaction.

Rick's lip curled at her statement and his chest heaved as he stalked away from her. Lori softened her voice and reached out to touch his arm. "Why don't you take her for a bit?" she offered, indicating their baby. "She's like aloe on a sunburn." Her joke fell flat and was met with resistance as he shrugged her off and held up his hands.

Without another word he left the room, banging the door behind him. Lori lowered her head and she shifted the baby onto her shoulder. The sound of something moving behind her caught her attention and she turned to find Hershel leaning heavily on his crutches, his face showing her that he had overheard their exchange.

"I know," Lori sighed, leaning against the table closest to her. "I'm an idiot for thinking a baby would fix my marriage," she rubbed her daughter's back affectionately. "I've seen enough talk shows - I ought to have known better."

The old man held her gaze for a moment. "Not everything is about you," he drawled slowly and Lori frowned at his accusation. "I apologize," he shook his head. "It's been a rough… year."

Lori nodded, accepting his apology at face value.

"You should put her down for a bit and rest," he turned to head back towards the cells. "You won't any get better if you don't give your body the time it needs to heal."

She nodded again, shifting the baby in her arms. "I know," looking down at Judith she sighed. "I guess I just feel guilty for doing so much resting when there is so much to be done around here… and with Rick," she motioned with her hand to the door where her husband had gone. "And Maggie and Glenn bein' taken, and Daryl gone," she took a steadying breath. "What are we going to do?"

Hershel's eyes remained on the exit where she had indicated. "Try again," he suggested softly. "That's all we can do."

XXXX

Rick slammed the heavy prison door behind him and stomped out onto the overpass. The fresh air and sun on his face felt good and he stopped to take a look around at the prison yard. The binoculars that he'd carried out with him were heavy in his hand as he lifted them to his eyes. He swept his enhanced gaze over Michonne and the over-turned bus, then over the grassy field. When he found the small plot that they had been using as a graveyard he stiffened.

_Lori._

He shook his head to clear it and glanced back at the door that he had just come out from, towards the room where he had just left the real - the other Lori.

His feet felt unsteady underneath him as he dashed out to where he had seen her, his heart thudding in his chest. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in feathery wisps that moved in the gentle breeze and his eyes drank in the details as he approached her.

As he reached the distance of a few feet from her he blinked and vanished from the spot where she had been standing. He stared at the sticks that had been tied together to form a cross and he wondered for a moment who the grave markings were there to represent. He hadn't attended any burials - he'd been… indisposed.

Pulling his eyes away from the graves he looked around for her again and then spotted her on the other side of the fence. Rick finally caught up with her just outside of the final perimeter and he slowed his jog. She stood looking down at the small stream, offering him a clear shot of her profile - her high cheekbones and the curve of her ear, lost in soft brown waves of hair.

She turned to him and reached out silently, her slender fingers curled slightly - nails polished and glimmering in the sun. He paused, his breath jamming in his lungs as he swept her perfect futures, she looked beautiful. And healthy. And _peaceful_.

His mind's eye turned back to the Lori in the prison, her pale features, flinching in pain with each movement. Her hair, stringy and dull, clinging to her ashen skin, void of colour and the lightness that he saw before him now - _ethereal_. Like an angel.

Her skin felt smooth against his rough cheek and he leaned into her touch, hungry for the affection she was offering to him. Tears licked the rims of his burning eyes like vinegar in an open wound. Maybe this was happening because she was supposed to be dead. They had saved her and maybe that had been the wrong thing.

_Maybe this isn't a world for children anymore_.

The memory of her voice startled him and he looked to her hazel eyes to see if she had spoken.

_Why do we want Carl to live in this world? So that he can be hungry and scared… so that he can run and run?... If he dies tonight, it ends for him. Tell me why it would be better another way. _

He could see her clearly, her arms wrapped around her thin frame, her cheeks flushed and shining with tears, her hip resting against the porch railing on Hershel's porch.

_Maybe Jenner was right_, she'd proposed, her voice breaking.

_Do you think it would be better if we gave up?_

_Tell me why it would be better the other way. _

Rick refocused on her face now and he felt his chest shudder and ache as though he had been punched. Looking over his shoulder his heart twisted and he returned her gaze to the woman before him who wasn't really there at all. Reaching up he touched her cheek and leaned in to kiss her, but before their lips could touch disappeared again.

The world swayed around him and he searched for her again. He needed to ask her why she was there... he needed her to tell him if he'd done the right thing.


	4. Chapter 4

The others had collected in the common area of their cell-block to discuss how they would proceed in regards to Woodbury. She had declined to join them, saying that she needed some rest, which wasn't untrue – but what she really needed was some time to collect herself after her altercation with her husband. She had taken Hershel up on his suggestion and had tucked the baby into her make-shift crib in the corner of the cell, her own shirt strung up on some wire taped to the wall to block out the light. Through the gaps in the material she could see Judith's hand draped across her chest, tiny fingers twitching as she slept. Lori wondered what her daughter dreamed of now, and how long it would take for her dreams to be clouded by the nightmares that jolted the rest of the group out of their sleep most nights.

Lowering her chin, Lori pushed the loose strands of her hair behind her ears and turned back to the pair of T-Dog's pants that she was taking in and hemming for Hershel. She'd folded the right leg up and inwards to create a pouch to protect his still healing limb. She hoped that she had made it long enough and that he wouldn't take offense to her recycling their friend's clothes so soon after his death.

Glenn's raised voice caught her attention and she tuned into the conversation, curious about what had sparked a debate. Hershel responded, diplomatic but urgent, and Lori placed her sewing onto the floor and slowly pulled herself to her feet. She had barely made it to her cell-door when Maggie breezed passed her and stomped up the stairs, the young woman's back tense as she moved rigidly. Lori looked between Maggie's retreating form and the common area where it remained tense.

Deciding against getting involved with whatever was going on in the meeting, she glanced at her sleeping daughter one more time before pursuing Maggie. She took the stairs slowly, reminding herself to breathe with each step. The climb was excruciatingly slow, and she was more than a bit shaky when she finally reached the top, stomach aching and legs trembling beneath her. She kept her hand wrapped around the metal railing as she made her way toward Maggie and Glenn's cell. She paused in front of her son's and rolled her eyes at the site of dirty clothes sprawled across the floor and junk tossed onto the top bunk.

She made a mental note to stop by on her way back downstairs to collect the laundry. Her room that she shared with Carol was as tidy as she had last seen it; her own bed stripped bare, though a couple of articles of clothing that hadn't been modified to fit her pregnant belly were folded into a neat pile at the bottom. She eyed the jeans longingly – she never thought that she would be excited for the day that she would be able to fit into the raggedy kneed pair of pants again.

Springs creaking from the cell two down refocused her attention and she continued down the narrow walk to where the sound had come from. Lori hesitated outside for a moment before tapping her knuckles against the metal frame where the door would slide closed. Maggie didn't move from her position on the bed where she had curled up, her knees pressed hard into her chest, held in place by tan arms.

Lori frowned at the sight of the other woman, feeling a mixture of concern and curiousity. She and Maggie had had a rocky start to their relationship and Lori took full responsibility for it. After-all, it was her request for a favour that had led Glenn and Maggie to go into town to pick up _supplies_ for her, resulting in their attack.

And now she owed a debt of gratitude again – if it weren't for Maggie her daughter wouldn't have survived her traumatic birth. She owed Maggie any comfort that she could provide… she just wasn't sure if it would be welcome, considering that it had been on her account that Glenn and Maggie had been taken most recently. If she hadn't needed antibiotics, they never would have been out there.

"Can I come in?" Lori asked, keeping her voice low.

Maggie barely spared her a glance before returning her eyes to the wall in front of her.

Taking her silence as consent, Lori stepped into the small cell and made her way over to the bunk. She hesitated again before easing herself down onto the mattress by Maggie's feet. Reaching over, she rested a steady - and what she hoped to be reassuring – hand on the curled woman's ankle. Maggie flinched at the touch, and Lori considered retreating, then discarded the thought, keeping her hand firmly in place. The storm brewing in Maggie's green eyes was a clear manifestation of her inner turmoil.

"We can talk about it if you want… or we can just sit," Lori watched Maggie's face for any indication that she was listening. "That's okay too," she added reassuringly.

Maggie's throat tightened as she swallowed. Her voice was hard when she spoke, "Talk about what?"

The shift in the woman's body language was subtle, but Lori caught the way she curled in more, closing herself off physically, protectively. "Anything that you need to, or want to," she ventured, flexing her fingers to give the ankle in her hand a gentle squeeze.

Maggie remained silent, her teeth pinching her lower lip, worrying it as she continued to gaze glassily at the wall across from her.

"You know, I," Lori paused, collecting herself. She wavered, unsure if she was making the wrong assumption, jumping to the wrong conclusion. "When we were at the CDC, before we found your farm… I remember feeling like things were finally going to be good again," she smiled in spite of herself, remembering the look on Carl's face when he and Sophia had discovered the games room, packed with toys and books. "We had food, and running hot water," she illustrated, delaying the inevitable part of the story that she hadn't ever spoken aloud.

"But then," she pursed her lips. "I was…" she searched for the words, feeling ashamed before they could even cross her lips. "Someone cornered me and… tried to force himself on me. I fought him off, but I can still feel his hands – _clawing _at me… at my thighs, my shorts…"

Maggie's breath hitched and Lori felt hot tears spring to her eyes, welling up but not falling, building until she could barely see anymore.

"Who?" Maggie asked, still hard.

Lori blinked once and a single tear trickled loose from the dam still in her eyes. She swiped at it with her free hand, unwilling to release her hold on Maggie. "It doesn't matter," she answered finally.

"Tell me who," Maggie demanded coldly. "Or I don't want to talk about this."

Nodding, Lori looked upwards at the seam where the wall met the ceiling. Anything to not be looking at Maggie. "Shane," she admitted, sputtering on the word. "It was Shane… He was drunk and confused and…" The stream of excuses died on her lips as she realized how hollow they sounded. She shook her head, dislodging more tears. "He thought he was entitled to something just because he wanted it and thought he had earned it."

Maggie nodded once. "But he didn't rape you," she croaked.

"No," Lori declared. "It didn't matter whether he did or he didn't… It didn't matter that I fought him off, or if he was sorry about what had happened," she cleared her throat, hoping to ease the tightness there. "I felt alone, like there was no one in the world who I could tell, who would understand. I felt like I would never be safe again."

The ankle beneath her hand shifted and Lori released her hold, keeping her eyes on the other woman's face as a mixture of emotions worked their way across her features: sadness, fear, anger, before they settled back into a blank canvas, void of any expression at all.

"Please just go away," Maggie muttered, turning her face into her pillow.

Lori conceded and got to her feet. "If you… you should get checked out, Maggie, if there was any… if he -, " she took a deep breath. "If there was any contact, you should get checked out. Carol or I could- we can help you."

Without waiting for a response she slipped outside onto the catwalk and waited until she was out of Maggie's view before pausing to catch her breath. She hadn't realized how hard her heart was hammering in her chest and leaned against the railing, eyes closed, to steady herself, gulping in air as the fought to tuck away the flurry of emotions inside of her.

When she reopened her eyes she stared out the large windows opposite her, breathing through nausea and fear. Glenn was coming up the stairs, and he met her eyes as he passed her, his expression so unlike the one that belonged to the quirky, awkward young man she had met almost a year before.

Turning to give the couple their privacy, she headed downstairs, Carl's messy room now an afterthought.

XXXX

Lori returned to the ground floor of the block, disappointed to find that Rick had yet to come back inside. She wished that he could see how much he needed to sleep and eat something. He'd always been one to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders; her own personal Atlas. His sense of personal responsibility had always been one of the things she admired most about him. Now, she worried that he would be crushed by it all, and that there was nothing she could do to save him.

Still feeling emotional from her conversation with Maggie, the tears came easily. She swiped at them with the back of her hand and looked around miserably, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. She looked to the washing station, where Carol would normally be scrubbing the skin off her knuckles in a bucket of filthy laundry… and she had no idea where her son had gotten off to.

Judith would need to be fed soon, she wouldn't sleep for more than another half-hour… she looked to Carol's work station again, wondering how she was holding up in the wake of Daryl's… betrayal? The word didn't feel right – she couldn't imagine that she would have done anything different in his shoes. _Departure_, she decided.

Lori wondered if she would tell Carol about what she had learned from Maggie in case she decided that she did indeed need some help, and then she vetoed the idea immediately.

It was hard enough experiencing what she had, Lori didn't want to lump a betrayal of confidentiality on top of it. She hoped Maggie would also feel the same sense of solidarity and keep Lori's disclosure to herself. The last thing she needed right now was Rick carrying the burden of that too – that one was hers to shoulder.

Footsteps sounded overhead and she followed Glenn's heavy movements as he descended the stairs. Based on his posture, she gleaned that his conversation with Maggie hadn't gone well. She sighed, it was hard to watch people dealing with rifts in such an already difficult time – you really didn't know when would be the last time… it seemed frivolous to waste even a second.

She and Rick had learned that the hard way – she sighed, or at least she thought they had.

_Try again_, she thought, remembering her conversation with Hershel. Grasping onto her determination she stopped by her cell to collect her daughter first.

She found Judith awake, unsuccessfully grasping at the pacifier attached to her sleeper, her small hands clumsily pushing it more than holding. Kneeling down so that she wouldn't have to bend, Lori picked up the baby, easing a carefully placed smile onto her lips. "Hi there," she cooed, setting Judith on the bed beside her before getting to her feet, unable to control the grunt of pain that escaped her as she stood.

"You alright?" Beth appeared at her side, her eyes conveying her concern. "You shouldn't – "

"Stand?" Lori let out a frustrated sigh. "Move? Breathe?" Closing her eyes she pressed two fingers to her temple where a dull headache was beginning. Taking a calming breath she patted Beth's hand that had wound its way into the side of her shirt. The girl's fingers relaxed and she withdrew her hand. "I'm sorry," Lori apologized on a long exhalation. She offered Beth a smile as a peace offering.

"Accepted," Beth brightened again. "Need anything? It's gettin' on dinner time and I was thinkin'…" she drawled, pushing the hair that had come loose from her ponytail back to secure it behind her ears.

"Nervous about somethin'?" Lori asked, eying the young girl as she eased Judith up to her chest.

The blonde teenager pursed her lips, then offered an embarrassed smile, her cheeks tingeing pink. "How did you-?" she shook her head. "I was wondering if I could have one of those bottles of milk… and borrow Judith for a bit."

Lori lifted one brow questioningly.

"I just thought that Maggie might, y'know, that it would be good for her to have someone to cuddle for a bit who doesn't ask questions." Her blue eyes fell to Judith. "It's probably stupid."

As the clumsy explanation fell from the girl's mouth, Lori listened, feeling her heart swell with love for Beth. Using one hand to secure her daughter, she closed her free arm around the teenage girl, pulling her into a hug that she hoped conveyed the true extent of her affection. "You're a good sister, Beth," she assured the girl in her arms.

Beth's arms weaved around Lori's frame and she tucked her head into the spot under her chin, her nose inches from Judith's. She held on, and Lori wondered how long the girl had been needing a solid hug.

"Thank you," Beth whispered, disengaging from the hug, though her hand lingered on Lori's back.

Lori transferred Judith to Beth's arms before giving each of the girls a quick kiss to the forehead. "Bottles are in the cooler… freshest one is at the front. The others will need to be dumped soon."

Beth nodded, "I'll take care of it," she promised, smiling softly as she left the room, tucking Judith's soother into her mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

"Baby? Have you seen your daddy?" Lori asked her son when she found him in the common area tying his shoe laces. She leaned against the table where he had his gun half-assembled before him, its clip resting almost at the edge. "Don't put your shoes on the seat," she clucked, eyeing the muddy soles of his boots.

"He's outside," Carl put his foot down obediently and examined the dirty seat. Shrugging he used his hand to sweep the dirt onto the floor, and then offered her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, mom," he muttered, reaching for his clip.

Lori caught it first and lifted it out of his reach. Turning it over in her hand she rolled her thumb over the first bullet. "You know what he's doin' out there?" Lifting her eyes, she met her son's.

Carl shrugged and eyed the clip, then sighed, shaking his head. "No," he answered earnestly. "But I think he's by the stream… maybe you could talk to him; he's kind of freakin' us all out."

Frowning, Lori reached out to tough the boy's cheek. "You know he wouldn't hurt you," she assured him, giving his ear a gentle tug.

"I know," Carl agreed, reaching for the clip in her hand. He plucked it free from her fingers and busied himself with reassembling his gun. "It's just that… Glenn said he's riding the _crazytrain_," he shrugged again.

"That isn't true," Lori interjected, frowning at the choice of words.

Carl rolled his eyes, sliding his weapon into its holster on his hip. "Yeah, it is, mom. You didn't see him last night. He was like some kind of… I don't know! Crazy person!"

Lori took a calming breath and reached out to slide her arm around her son's shoulders. Pulling him into her side she started a slow walk toward the door. "I'll take care of your dad," she promised. "I don't want you to worry."

When he didn't answer her she looked over to find his eyes fixed on the ground ahead of them, his expression torn. She gave him a squeeze and reached for his chin, turning his face upward to look at her. "I mean it, Carl. We're going to figure this out."

His nod was a hesitant one and she could tell that he didn't believe her, which only increased her determination. She and Rick - whether they were together or not – were still a team who desperately needed to get back on the same game-plan for the sake of their children.

Carl opened the door when they reached it, holding it open for Lori first. The day was brilliant and she sucked in the fresh air, feeling better already. Across the yard Glenn and Hershel were having a conversation by the pick-up truck and Lori knew instantly that it was one that she didn't want any part of. Moving slowly, she picked her way down the steps, Carl treading impatiently on her heels.

"You got somewhere to be?" she asked him, wincing as she reaching the bottom and lifted her hand to open the gate.

Carl stepped around her and used his shoulder to shove it open for her. "Nope," he lowered his face, hiding it under the brim of his hat. "Just sick of waiting for you, slow-poke."

"You little punk," she chuckled at his cheeky smile, hitting the brim of his hat to push it over his eyes. "_Slowpoke_," she mimicked, watching him dart away out into the yard. Still beaming, she wandered further out, past the furthest corner of the building, toward the fence. She paused, raising her hand to block the sun from her eyes as she looked for Rick.

The pick-up started up and she turned to find Glenn behind the wheel, guiding the large vehicle toward the gate where Carl was ready for him. Hershel, who was left standing in his wake, sighed, his chest heaving impatiently. She watched him for a moment as he searched the yard, then followed his fixed gaze out beyond the three rows of fencing to the small wooded area by the creek. A figure moved through the trees and she squinted, recognizing the shirt and familiar gait – Rick.

"Let's go for a walk," Hershel suggested, making his way over to her on his crutches. Lori nodded, her eyes still trained on her husband in the distance as he stalked the creek bed. The wind picked up slightly, tossing the litter in the yard up into the air behind her and she turned to inspect where the sound had come from.

Easing her arms around herself she shivered, inspecting the fences and gates, suddenly feeling vulnerable without the thick prison walls around her. She looked to the gate, beyond the overpass where the Walkers had come through just over a week ago, then to the door where she, Carl, and Maggie had sought refuge.

A calloused hand touched her shoulder, startling her from her thoughts and she took a step back, her eyes finding Hershel's.

"You're alright," he said, his voice soft and warm, coaxing her out of her troubled thoughts. "No one can hurt you here."

Lori nodded, taking a deep breath. She knew that her fears, though overwhelming, were unfounded. Hershel was right, the prison was safe, and they wouldn't still be there otherwise. She acknowledged the old man with a nod and allowed him to turn her toward the field.

The walk was slow with Hershel on crutches and her clinging to her incision, her hands pressing down in an attempt to ease the relentless pain that jarred her with each uneven step. They followed the perimeter of the fence, avoiding the overturned bus where the woman, Michonne, was sitting. Lori wondered what she was doing outside… or if she had a choice – maybe she wasn't welcome into the block.

When they were several feet away from the fence at the far end of the yard Hershel stopped walking. Pausing mid-step, Lori turned to him questioningly. He nodded toward the direction where they had seen Rick earlier, encouraging her to go on. She nodded and gave his forearm a gentle squeeze, allowing her hand to linger for the moment before leaving him to approach the fence.

She couldn't see Rick anymore, and she wondered if he had left. "Rick?" she called, feeling a nervous flutter in her chest. The woods were full of Walkers and she worried about him being on his own, especially in his current state. A movement caught her eye and she called his name again, sliding her fingers through the chain-link as she looked for him again. "Rick." He wasn't too deep into the woods, barely past the edge where the trees were relatively young and thin.

He appeared fully and paused at the foot of the bridge, his eyes fixed ahead of him.

"Will you come here for a sec?" she tried, trying to keep the waiver out of her voice as she inspected him. His hair was unwashed and drenched with sweat, his clothes too. She swept her gaze over his wane face – he looked sickly. "Just for a second."

He nodded, his eyes skimming the woods again before he turned to approach her slowly. She took a second to glance over her shoulder to see that Hershel hadn't abandoned her. The old man kept a quiet vigil exactly where she had left him. When she turned again she found that Rick had crossed the bridge to stand near the outer fence. He still wasn't looking at her, but she took it as a good sign that he was as close as he was.

"You doing alright?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain unconcerned; the last thing she wanted to do was scare him off by starting off too aggressively. When he didn't answer she tried again. "Baby, we're all worried about you. We need you."

Rick squinted in the sunlight, barely meeting her eyes for a moment before he was looking around again. "He send you?" he gestured over her shoulder at Hershel. "If he's so worried about it tell him to lead." His gestured turned to one of dismissal and he turned away to gaze at the woods again.

Lori worried that he might take off again and she leaned in, her sore abdomen pressed to the fence. "Is there something you need? What are you doing out here?" she asked, feeling a sense of urgency.

Rick didn't answer her at first, and when he did his voice was raw and exhausted to the point that she barely recognized it. "I- I've been…" he whispered, his eyes dazed. "I've got…" he seemed thoughtful, as though he wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say. "…stuff out here," he struggled, shifting from one foot to the other, and gestured to the woods. "_…Stuff_," he added quietly.

Lori rested her cheek against her right hand and blinked back tears. No wonder Carl was on edge about his father's behaviour… the dull look in his eyes and the absent tone in his voice was more than a little unsettling.

"How much longer do you need?" Hershel asked, easing his way over to her side.

Rick met the man's eyes then lowered his own to the ground. "I don't know," he shook his head slightly, his chest rising then deflating as his hand slid over his belt to rest on the butt of his gun – his eyes continuing to drift to look behind him at the woods. "_I don't_…"

"Is there anything I can help you with?" the old man asked from beside her. Lori kept her watery eyes fixed on her troubled husband as he shifted back and forth unsteadily on his feet. He had taken to not looking at her at all, as though she wasn't even there.

His blue eyes held Hershel's, focussing for the first time since she had come out here. He locked gazes and Lori could see his mind working as he weighed his options. Hershel turned to leave, and she released the fence, her hand darting out to bunch into his shirt fabric. He stopped just as Rick spoke, his voice slipping back into some semblance of the one that she was familiar with.

"I saw something," Rick announced, taking small steps toward the fence.

Hershel turned back to the fence and Lori uncoiled her fist as Rick stepped as close as he could with the chain-link barriers between them. "Lori," he admitted. "I saw L-," he quavered, his eyes settling on the ground again. "I'm seeing Lori," he admitted.

Lori felt her mouth part and her eyes widen. She looked to Hershel in confusion and he held up his hand.

"Lori's right here, Rick," Hershel corrected. "See?"

Rick shook his head, using one hand to scrub his eye. "I know," he agreed. "There's two of them. I know that it's not really her, the other one… or that it isn't real, but I," he shook his head. "It's gotta mean something. The dreams… the phone – Shane, in the town," he lifted his hand to slide it through a diamond-shaped link of fence. He kept his chin low as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Hershel's. "It's gotta mean something."

Lori's chest ached with all of the words jammed up inside her, held in place by the knot in her throat.

"There's an answer," Rick insisted. "It doesn't make sense, but in time… it will, it will make sense."

"Come on in," Hershel coached him soothingly. "You need rest." When Rick hesitated he continued, this time with a touch of force. "It's not safe out here."

Rick shook his head and stepped away. "I can't," he said decidedly, turning back towards the bridge. "I can't."

Lori watched him go, her thoughts a jumbled mess of concern and shock that seemed to cloud her ability to do anything at all. She felt her shoulders slump as she turned to Hershel, watching his face like she was underwater or a thousand miles away. "Bring him back," she pleaded, the words a vacant croak, forcing their way out through the pinhole opening in her too-tight throat. "Hersh-," she was startled by the thin wisp of a long-range weapon firing and she froze, her eyes darting toward the prison. Time seemed to move in slow motion as the air filled with several consecutive _snaps_ of an automatic weapon behind her and she turned in time to see the bridge explode under Rick's feet as a string of holes appeared along its edge, splintering the wood.

She barely had time to respond before she and Hershel were under fire too, and then she was falling, shoved to the ground. Panicked, she broke her fall with her forearms, but it did little to stop the impact of her abdomen with the hilly soil, followed by excruciating pain. Crying out, she felt Hershel grasp the collar of her shirt and start to drag her, pulling the neckline up around her throat – out of panic she pushed his hand away and fought to catch her breath.

"I'm okay," she muttered, panting through the pain. She pushed herself to follow him as she crawled military-style into the longer grass where they would have some more coverage. Bullets narrowly missed her and she held her breath, her hand finding Hershel's as they both froze and waited.

Moving slowly, she moved her free hand underneath her to hold her abdomen. It felt spongy to the touch and she startled, quickly withdrawing her hand to inspect her fingers. Looking between the digits and Hershel she felt a strange sensation of cold seep over her as shock settled in at the sight of oozing red blood.


	6. Chapter 6

Lori came to in the front seat of the pick-up where she was crammed in between Hershel and Glenn, the gear-stick digging into her thigh. She groaned, lifted one hand to block the pulsing light that was setting her eyes on fire. Disoriented, she lifted her head off Hershel's shoulder and looked around.

Lowering her hand she dropped it to her stomach, wincing at her saturated t-shirt. "Wha-," the cab dipped as it passed through the gates into the main part of the prison, jarring her. She hissed, sinking her teeth into her lower lip and reached out to grip Hershel's forearm.

He barely had time to respond before the car came to a stop and the door was yanked open by Maggie. Glenn and Michonne poured out of the vehicle, the latter making a beeline for the now closed gate. Hershel was slower, leaning heavily on his daughter as he got out. Lori stayed put, watching the father press a kiss to his daughter's cheek before she too made her way over to the group by the fence.

Easing her way out of the seat she was stopped by Hershel's hand on her shoulder, pressing her back into the seat. "You take your time," he insisted. "You probably burst a stitch. Let's take a look."

Lori nodded, and with Glenn's help lifted her legs out from the truck and leaned back on her hands, propping herself up. Hershel's fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and lifted it, exposing the loose skin of her abdomen, like a deflated balloon, and the blood-soaked fabric of her bandage. She looked at Glenn first, embarrassed, but his expression remained grim.

The medical tape came off easily, already peeling away as the blood seeped through the adhesive. Hershel ticked at the sight of her incision and she turned to look too. She averted her eyes to the grey fabric ceiling of the car to avoid looking at her incision where the thread had torn away from the skin, leaving the open wound to give way to puckering fat.

"Gross," Glenn muttered under his breath.

Lori huffed and lowered her eyes to see him again. "Thanks," she snipped, reaching over to collect the discarded bandage off the dashboard. She recovered her wound and held the pad of gauze in place, acknowledging Glenn's apology with a simple nod.

"Rick?" she asked, sliding off the corner of the seat, her hand resting on Glenn's forearm to steady herself. His arm slipped around her waist to take the brunt of her weight.

"Holy shit! Did you get shot?" Carl jogged over to her, his wide eyes fixed on her abdomen.

"Carl Grimes don't make me get a bar of soap to wash your mouth out," she warned. "I can't believe you would even think about using that language in front of me… or anywhere," she continued. Releasing Glenn she took a step away to stand on her own, one hand resting on her hip. Carl slowed to a walk, his head ducked down to avoid her eyes.

He stopped in front of her. "I was ju-," he started.

"About to make an apology," Lori cut in, fighting to keep her tone firm.

Carl looked up, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I'm sorry," he ground out.

Lori turned back to Glenn, who slipped his hand around her waist again. "I don't believe you," she started back towards the stairs, already cringing at the thought of having to climb them. "We'll discuss this later."

Carl huffed and headed back towards the fence where the others were still gathered, waiting and watching the Walkers ambling around in the yard.

She caught Glenn looking at her from the corner of her eye and she kept her eyes forward, eyeing the stairs ahead of them. Lori took the first one and waivered, closing her eyes as the building swam. "Oh God," she mumbled, steadying her hand on the wall. "I need to be sick," she groaned, stomach churning. She gulped in fresh air, trying to quell the nausea that was overwhelming her senses and filling her mouth with saliva. Bending over she heaved once, and then again before acid rushed up her esophagus and out her mouth to splatter at her feet on the paved steps.

The rest of the world faded away and she screwed her eyes shut, sucking in air. When the imminent nausea passed she opened her eyes slowly. Glenn was still at her side, his expression panicked as he looked between her and someone behind her. Turning around she found the rest of the group crowded around the gate.

"I'm okay," she sputtered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She wasn't particularly embarrassed – they'd gone through a pregnancy with her and had all seen her vomit more than once.

"Dad told us to get inside," Carl was staring at a vomit at her feet, his eyes wide.

Lori nodded, scanning over the rest of the group. "Yeah," she agreed. "Just, uh," she turned back towards the door and held her breath, forcing herself to move towards it. "Just watch your step."

XXXX

Lori took her time settling down her daughter, who had been left inside on her own during the attack. They had come in to halls echoing with insistent cries and Lori had gone to her immediately while the others dispersed to their own cells for the night.

Hershel had come in, barely giving her enough time to get Judith back to sleep before he insisted on treating her incision. Now, lying on her bunk again, her daughter tucked into her side, she stared up at the bars, listening to Rick, Daryl and Merle debating. She couldn't make out exactly what the topic was, but she assumed it had something to do with where their new guest would be spending the night. Hershel worked quietly, clipping the remaining stitches to clean her incision.

The process wasn't comfortable for her, and with each wince or hiss that went unchecked he would glance over, offering her apologetic looks.

"It's not your fault," she told him the third time it happened. "Thanks for patching me up… must be gettin' sick of it by now," she returned her eyes to the rusted bars that held up the bunk above her.

Hershel hummed in response and Lori sighed. "Everyone's fine? They all seemed fine," she added, trying to fill the silence in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves. She felt edgy and trapped inside the prison. She wondered if they would decide to move on – and what they would do on the road with a newborn. Reaching down, she found Judith's soft cheek and stroked it, careful not to disturb her sleep.

"Axel's dead," Hershel told her, picking up his suture kit. His words were so matter of fact and blunt that it startled her. "I can't stitch this," he moved on. "I'll have to use surgical glue and butterfly closures."

"If it'll hold then you won't hear me complaining." She was grateful that she wouldn't have to endure being stitched up without even a local. Hershel continued to work in silence and she turned her attention to Judith again. The baby had woken up again and was squirming a little, Lori caught one pudgy ankle in her hand and held it in place. It was a difficult angle to get a good look at her, but Lori could see that Judith had her eyes open and was squinting back at her, her back arched, her hands bunched into tiny fists.

"You calm down there, sweetheart," she whispered, resting her hand over Judith's chest to keep her in place.

"Everything alright in here?" Rick asked as his shadow fell across the door. He leaned against the wall at the cell opening, his hand resting on his holster. His voice sounded strained, like he was speaking to a suspect or something – someone other than the woman he had been married to for more than a decade.

Lori lifted her head to squint at him in the growing shadows. "Yeah," she answered, laying her head back down on her pillow. "Just getting cleaned up…"

Rick blinked and took a step further into the cell, his eyes fixed on her abdomen. Lori watched him intently, trying to figure out where he was at mentally. He seemed more grounded than he had earlier outside. In fact, she would have believed none of it had happened at all if she didn't know better.

"I expect you'll be turnin' in yourself," Hershel spoke up, picking up a roll of gauze.

Rick's jaw ticked and he nodded. "I expect you're right. Just waiting on you finishing up."

"Almost done." Hershel cut a piece of medical tape and secured her bandage in place. Rick took a seat on the end of the bed, his head tilted to watch the baby, still squirming at her side. Reaching over he placed his hand over hers on Judith's ankle, then looked up to meet her gaze for a split second before he turned to see Hershel get to his feet.

Rick jumped up, but was waived off by Hershel who was securing his crutches under his arms.

"You're going to have to be careful, Lori," he instructed as he headed for the door.

Lori answered with a tight smile. "You bet," she promised. "Thanks."

When he was gone she turned to Rick who was standing next to the bed looking at the back wall of the cell. Reaching up, she caught his hand, making him jump.

"Sorry," she whispered her apology. "Sorry, baby," she repeated again, threading her fingers through his.

His face turned to her slowly, his features pulling into a grimace, but he was otherwise perfectly still. Lori tugged on his hand, urging him to join her in the bed. His eyes shot to the baby and she offered him a sheepish smile.

"I don't think I'm ready to let her go just yet," she admitted.

Rick nodded and bent down, leaning under the top bunk. His hands slid under Judith and he lifted her smoothly. He placed her in her box and turned back to the bed. Lori eyed him closely as he kneeled on the mattress and did the same thing with her, except that he relocated her closer to the wall. Surprised, she bit her lip and rested her hands on his shoulders to steady herself against his chest.

He pulled away and went back to the baby while she turned onto her side, bracing her hand against her incision, watching him curiously. He stripped down to his boxers and slipped his shirt off before scooping up their daughter and getting into the narrow bed beside her, Judith resting on his chest.

"You won't sleep well," Lori protested, moving closer to him despite the pain the motion caused. She settled into his side under his arm, her own moving around Judith to secure her in place. The baby slept deeply, her cheek pressed to Rick's chest like a cushion, her hand bunched up and half inside her mouth.

Rick grunted, closing his eyes, his hands pulling both Judith and Lori closer.

Lori watched him as he drifted off, the muscles in his face relaxing until his scowl was smoothed out. She sighed, happy to see him resting regardless of the day's events. It wasn't long before she fell asleep too.

XXXX

He'd volunteered to take the first watch – wasn't like he'd be able to sleep anyway with everything that'd gone down that day. They'd agreed that they would keep watch from inside. Figured it would be easier to alert the group that way if somethin' was happening. So he sat on the perch, his legs hanging over the grated sides, watching out the large windows.

It was peaceful outside… the moon had come up and was hangin' heavy in the night sky – bright enough to light up the whole cellblock and the yard. He could make out the black smudges that were Walkers stumbling around in the yard outside. They all knew more would come; before they knew it they'd have a whole herd on their hands, pushin' over the last fence that stood between the prison and outside world.

He'd always left cowardice to his daddy and Merle; Daryl'd never been the type to take off when shit got tough. He didn't really want to start now. The prison was as good a place as any for them and he didn't see much sense in givin' up over some pussy like The Governor. They'd made some kind of a – as fucked up as it sounded - home for themselves. They had food, shelter… more than they'd had all winter. They just needed to regroup and figure out a plan to kick Woodbury's ass. Hell, he'd do it himself if no one else was up for it.

Feeling restless, he got to his feet and stalked the distance of the perch, then headed down the stairs. The block was silent other than the sound of his own feet and Hershel snoring. Stretching out his arms, he arched his back and shuffled over to the other end of the cells to the entrance to the common room. He squinted, listening to the sound of Merle's heavy breathing in the other room.

The large space was barely lit at all so he couldn't see his brother. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key that he had taken off the larger ring earlier that evening. Sure he was pissed at his brother, but no way in hell was he gonna give anyone else an all access pass to him. He turned the key over in his hand and slid it into the lock, trying to be as quiet as he could. The door squeaked as he opened it, but be committed to the motion, hoping to get it over with as fast as possible. Stepping into the common room he pushed the door shut but didn't bother locking it.

He slipped the key back into his pocket and headed toward the storage cage where Carol had made some sleeping arrangements for Merle. He found his brother on the thin cot, flipped over onto his back, struggling with his blankets. Daryl took a step back, holding his breath until he realized that Merle was asleep.

Daryl looked to the small table in the corner to his left and spotted the artificial limb, if you could call it that. Reaching out he touched the edge of the knife, feeling on edge.

The bed squeaked and he turned back toward his brother who had gone still, his blankets half tossed onto the floor. Merle lay on his back, one arm propped up under his head and the other hanging off the side of the cot. Daryl traced the limb down to where it ended prematurely, rounded out where a hand used to be.

He'd carried his brother's hand around in his pack, wrapped in a bandana until it had started to stink and Lori and Andrea had started to complain about the smell.

Moving slowly, his eyes trained on his brother's face, Daryl crouched down and snagged the corner of the fallen blanket and laid it over Merle before he retreated, quickly retracing his steps to go back to his watch.


	7. Chapter 7

Lori leaned against the stair railing next to where Hershel had taken a seat on the third step up. She kept her arms crossed carefully in front of her, biting her tongue as everyone else argued over what they would do next. She kept her eyes trained on Rick's tensed posture as he defended himself against the rest of the group: Hershel's accusations, Maggie's criticisms, and Carol and Beth's complaints. She watched him sink under the weight of it, his jaw ticking, his uneasy stance hardening, becoming defensive.

When Glenn jumped in on her husband's behalf she offered him an appreciative nod, grateful that someone was willing to stand behind the man who had put his life on the line for them time and time again. Her relief, however, was short-lived when Merle broke in from the other side of the bars where he had been locked out all night. She rolled her eyes at his sarcastic tone.

Closing her eyes, she lifted both hands to massage her temples to smooth away the headache that was forming there. Taking a deep breath she tried to block out the yelling match – Merle, then Maggie, Daryl chiming in from the upper level where he stalked back and forth.

"Get back here!" Hershel's voice bellowed, sounding through the room, echoing off the walls as he pushed himself up.

Lori cringed at the sudden explosion and opened her eyes to find Rick's back turned, his body frozen in mid-step as though he was a snapshot, captured in motion. He kept his back turned as he found his footing, his arms loose at his sides.

"You're slipping, Rick," the old man avowed, making his way over to where Rick has paused. "We've all seen it, we understand why – but now is not the time. You once said this is a democracy? Well now you have the own up to that. I put my family's lives in your hands," he asserted, stopping several feet back from the other man. "So get your head clear and do something," he demanded, his voice void of any patience or the understanding he professed to have.

Pushing herself away from the railing Lori cleared her throat. "I think that's enough," she insisted, mustering up her strength. Passing Hershel, she rested her hand on her husband's rigid arm. "Why don't you get some air," she suggested softly. "I'll be out in a bit."

Nodding stiffly, Rick pulled away from her and stalked out of the room.

Turning around to face Hershel she shook her head in disappointment. "You of all people should know better than to," she held up her hand as Maggie began to interject, successfully silencing the young woman. "You've had your say," she kept her index finger up as she spoke, holding the floor for herself.

Levelling her eyes on Hershel she took another step towards him, lowering her voice in an attempt to have some privacy despite their audience. "You have got to let up on him," she demanded firmly. "He's doing the best that he can, and if you want him to pull himself together you need to give him support," she shook her head, setting her jaw. "And stop questioning and criticizing him every step of the way – putting more pressure on him."

Without giving Hershel a chance to argue she turned away, ignoring Maggie's indignant expression. Sliding her eyes sideways she shot Merle a warning look and followed her husband's path around the back of the stairs to the second fire exit.

XXXX

When she stepped outside she could tell immediately that she had interrupted an intense conversation. Pausing underneath the roll-up door she inspected the scene before her: Carl, his hat in his hands, looking up at his father. With his back to her she was unable to see his face, and Rick's was unreadable.

Stepping out onto the covered cement loading dock she smoothed her hand over her son's hair and pulled him into a gentle hug before pushing him toward the door, her hand resting on the spot between his shoulder blades.

He glanced at his father once more before going inside.

Lori turned to Rick next and inspected him for a moment, his tanned arms resting on the slats of a warehouse pallet, his eyes turned outwards toward the woods. Running her teeth over her lower lip she followed his gaze, squinting in the morning sunlight at the yard. Walkers staggered around their lost acreage, groaning and growling. Her eyes fell on the delivery truck sitting in the middle of the field, its dropped gate hidden by the waist high grass. She hadn't been conscious during the event, but she was sure it must have been a sight…

Sighing at the fallen fence and the dwindling barriers between them and the outside world, she wondered if maybe Hershel and – God help them – Merle were right; maybe it was time for them to move on if it wasn't already too late.

Lori took a breath and made her way over to her husband, one arm sliding around his waist, her chest and stomach finding her back, curving into the contours of his body – snug like two matching puzzle pieces. She pressed a kiss to the shelf of his shoulder before resting her cheek on it, her unoccupied hand moving up to join his that held onto a pair of binoculars. Using her thumb, she stroked the length of the back of his hand, "What are you look for?"

Rick remained silent and still, his breaths long and slow, expanding his abdomen underneath her hand.

"It isn't me," she consoled, pulling him closer. "I'm right here, baby."

Rick's chin dipped and she lifted her head just a little to peer at his profile. He looked ashamed as he stared at his feet. "You're doing the absolute best you can," Lori whispered, resting her cheek on his shoulder again. "And there isn't one of us who doesn't appreciate it."

Rick's Adam's apple bobbed and he turned his face towards hers, the stubble on his chin rough against her jaw. "Carl asked me to stop leading. He wants me to let Hershel and Daryl take the reigns."

She considered his words. She knew that her answer would do nothing but burden him further, but she also knew that there was truth behind them that couldn't go unspoken. "He's just scared," she finally answered. "They all are."

Closing his eyes, Rick tilted his face, resting his cheek against hers.

"Come inside," she urged, kissing his cheek. Releasing his hand she ran it through his curls and took a step back, her arm threading through his, locking them together. "I need to feed Judith and you guys need to figure out what you're going to do about Merle. We can't keep him locked up forever."

XXXX

Lori eyed the open door to the common room… she was sceptical of Rick's decision to give Merle free run in the prison. Though she wasn't particularly fond of his mannerisms and he hadn't really done anything to her personally, she still questioned what kind of a presence he would have in the group.

She entered the larger room with caution, her eyes flicking between Michonne and Merle. Making a tight turn she hugged the wall, ducking behind the pole to make her way over to Carol. The baby in her arms shifted and she lifted her to her shoulder, pulling the blanket up to drape over her.

"All ready?" Carol asked, lifting a pot of boiling water off the camping stove.

Lori smiled, passing her to go over to the large oval shaped industrial baking pan that they had found in the kitchen. "I am, but I'm not just about her," Lori hummed, laying the baby down on the table on a towel. "Thanks for getting this set up," she accepted the pot of hot water from Carol and tipped it into the make-shift tub, mixing it with the cold water already in there. Using her hand she swirled the water, gauging its temperature. When she was satisfied she turned to her daughter again.

Carol stood by, watching Lori undo the baby's swaddled blanket. "There you are," Lori whispered to the baby, tearing away the disposable diaper and bundling it. Leaving the wad of cotton and synthetic plastic on the table, she slid her arms under Judith and transferred her into the tub, one hand cradling her head.

Judith's face scrunched as she was submerged into water and she began to wail, her back arched. "Shhh," Lori soothed her, picking up the cloth from beside the tub. Wetting it, she washed the baby efficiently.

Carol made a sound and Lori looked up to find her offering the baby a sympathetic look. She lifted her eyes to meet Lori's and her face shifted to an impish smile. "I always hated it when Sophia would cry like that – like I was torturing her or something."

Lori chuckled softly and nodded in agreement, returning her eyes to her daughter.

"Gonna wake the dead," a gruff voice came from behind Carol; Lori looked up to see that Merle had come out of the storage cell.

Lori quirked one brow, unsure of how to take his comment. She wondered if Merle was as good with babies as his brother was – somehow she doubted it. Despite his hard shell, Daryl had a softness inside him: Merle on the other hand seemed to be calcified right through.

He came to the edge of the table and Lori eyed his prosthetic hand… if one could even call it that. She suppressed the urge to scoop the baby up and leave and instead discarded the cloth to cup water to rinse Judith's hair.

"How d'you know she ain't gonna take a shit in there?" Merle asked, lifting one boot up to rest on the bolted seat.

Nope, definitely not as good with babies as his brother.

"You gonna keep talking with that vulgarity around my sweet little girl?" she asked pointedly, easing Judith out of the tub and back onto the towel.

Merle chuckled, giving her sense that he found her idiotic. Grinding her teeth she shook her head. "You know you're putting every single one of our lives at risk by coming here," she retorted, drying the still crying baby off. She worked as quickly as possible, just wanting to get back to the cellblock.

Carol came to her side, silently offering her support as she leaned into her, busying herself with drying up the splashed water.

"That what you think?" Merle scoffed, putting his foot down and straightening up. "You think that had anything to do with me?"

Lori glanced at the blade attached to his hand then back down at her daughter. Picking up the lotion, she quickly massaged it into the baby's skin.

"Your husband stepped on a hornet's nest," he replied.

Lori scoffed, lifting Judith's ankles to slide a fresh diaper underneath her, trying to keep her hands from trembling. "And you had nothing to do with that?" The question was made rhetorical by the sass in her voice and she eased Judith up to her chest, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other supporting her bum.

Lori levelled him with her gaze. "If you're going to stick with us and live here? Take some damn personal responsibility," she muttered, heading back towards her cell.

She was about to tell Carol she would be back in a minute to help clean up when the door suddenly slammed open, startling her. Spinning around, she found Carl coming through at full tilt. "Dad!" he yelled, dashing down the steps. "Andrea's outside!" he blurted, looking around. "Dad!"

The prison sprang into action, Glenn and Daryl suddenly appearing in the room, grabbing weapons. Lori stood in the middle of it watching them rushing around. Glenn sent Daryl, Merle and Michonne out to the yard, and called to Carol to follow him.

Lori followed them toward the overpass, but was stopped short before she could pass through the door by Carol's hand landing on her shoulder.

"You stay inside," Carol ordered, pushing Lori back before grabbing the door handle and pulling it closed with a slam.

Left alone in the cellblock, Lori sighed and looked down at her wailing daughter.

XXXX

Lori waited for the others to come in, her stomach twisted into knots of anxiety. She dressed the baby on the bottom bunk in her cell, guiding her legs into a pair of white tights. The plastic cover of her diaper crinkled as she moved her, keeping her eyes fixed on her sleeping baby's face. Reaching forward she ran her finger over parted pink lips.

She heard commotion and doors slamming. Moving quickly, she grabbed a purple dress from the small collection of baby clothes and pulled it over Judith's head before turning to her feet to dress them in a pair of knitted booties. Voices echoed through the building and she got to her feet, her hand gripping the upper bunk to make it easier. The commotion of the day was taking its toll on her freshly reopened incision and she was starting to get sore enough that she was considering taking something for the pain.

She had enough milk in the cooler to keep Judith going for at least the day, though she wasn't sure how long the drugs would stay in her system.

Picking up Judith and the throw blanket she was laying on, Lori winced, straightening up slowly. She laid the baby girl across her forearm and headed toward the common room, and then paused, considering her daughter. Changing her mind, she went back into her cell and placed Judith in the box in corner. Cringing, she got to her feet again and made her way toward where she could hear Carol's soft voice, her hand pressed to her stomach.

Lori slipped into the room just as Andrea asked about Shane and she winced, glancing over at Rick to see his reaction. He shook his head and shared a look with Daryl before lowering his eyes to the floor.

"And Lori?" Andrea asked, glancing around the room, apparently not seeing her as she stepped past Merle and began to make her way down the stairs. Rick's eyes lifted to meet hers and she offered him a smile that she hoped didn't belie her discomfort. Andrea turned around, her face cracking into a small smile.

When Lori reached the bottom step the blonde woman pulled her into a hug. The sudden movement caught her off guard, jarring her and causing her body to stiffen, bracing for the sudden pain. She hissed involuntarily into Andrea's ear, and grabbed her biceps, pushing her away.

Andrea's face flickered with confusion and her eyes fell to Lori's still puffy belly.

"A girl," Lori announced, rubbing her tender abdomen. She looked the other woman over, unsure of what she was supposed to think about her sudden reappearance in their lives. "I'm glad you're alright." She settled on her comments carefully and patted the woman's shoulder before making her way over to her son.

"We lost T-Dog," Carol piped in solemnly as Lori lowered herself onto a seat, reaching her hand out to her son.

He glanced down at her outstretched hand for a moment before going to her, allowing her to pull him into her side.

"You all live here?" Andrea asked, looking around the room.

"Here and in the cell-block," Glenn answered.

Andrea looked toward the open door, "There? Can I go in?" she took a step in the direction of the door, but was stopped as Rick moved into her way.

"I won't allow that," he retorted, only stopped when he was less than a foot from her.

The blonde woman took a small step back, settling onto one foot. "I'm not an enemy, Rick."

Rick's lip curled, "We had that field," he explained pointing toward the window, "that courtyard; until your boyfriend tore down the fence with a truck and shot us up." His hand moved to rest on his gun as he looked down at her, his face rigid.

Andrea waivered, "He said you fired first," she said, her voice full of disbelief.

"Well, he's lyin'."

"He killed an inmate who'd survived in here," Hershel spoke up, trying to convince her.

Lori watched as she struggled to accept their truth, the way she crossed one hand over her ribs and covered her mouth with the other. She felt for the woman…

"We liked him; he was one of us," Daryl added from his spot on the table.

Andrea's hand curled into the collar of her shirt. "I didn't know anything about that," she answered, shaking her head lightly. "As soon as I found out I came," she turned around, meeting each of their eyes. "I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shootout," she entreated, her voice rising.

"That was days ago," Glenn accused, unwavering.

"I told you I came as soon as I could," Andrea answered, her voice becoming defensive. She looked imploringly between Glenn and Maggie, taking deep breaths, her eyes shining with tears. Suddenly, she turned to Michonne. "What have you told them?" she demanded.

Michonne leaned again the storage cage, her face impassive. "Nothing," she declared.

"I don't get it!" Andrea turned to meet their eyes again. "I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm and odd man out?" she asked incredulously.

"He almost killed Michonne, and he would've killed us," Glenn's eyes widened, his anger and impatience bubbling to the surface.

Andrea stabbed at the air between her and Merle. "With his finger on the trigger! Isn't he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?" she questioned, reminding Lori that the woman had been an attorney in her other life. She blew out a puff of air and steepled her hands, covering her nose, rubbing her corners of her eyes. "Look, I cannot excuse or explain what Phillip has done – but I am here trying to bring us together," she dropped her hands to her sides, her eyes finding Rick's again. "We have to work this out!"

"There's nothing to work out," Rick replied. "We're gonna kill him. I don't know how, or when, but we will," he nodded once.

Andrea shook her head, "we can settle this," she insisted. "There is room at Woodbury for all of you!"

Merle smirked, drawing their attention as he spoke up for the first time. "You know better than that.

Andrea sighed, crossing her arms again.

"What makes you think this man wants to negotiate?" Hershel asked, looking over at her. "Did he say that?"

"No," Andrea admitted.

"Then why did you come here?" Rick shifted on his feet.

Andrea breathed out. "Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified, they see you as killers. They're training to attack."

"I'll tell you what," Daryl spoke up again. "Next time you see Phillip," the name rolled off his tongue with bitter mockery. "You tell him I'm gonna take his other eye," he promised.

"We've taken too much shit for too long," Glenn said. "We wants a war, he's got one."

Andrea ignored both their comments. "Rick?" she moved towards him. "If you don't sit down and try to work this out… I don't know what's gonna happen, he has a whole town! Look at you, you've lost so much already. You can't stand alone anymore," she turned her back on him and looked to Glenn, and then Lori.

Lori held her eyes for a moment until Andrea was distracted by Rick circling her until they were face to face again. "You want to make this right?" he demanded. "Get us inside."

"No!"

"Then we've got nothing to talk about," Rick started toward the door.

"There are innocent people!" Andrea continued, talking to Rick's back.

Lori watched her husband leave the room in disbelief. Using the table, she pushed herself to her feet, keeping her arm around Carl who helped her up. Without meeting Andrea's eyes she followed her husband out, keeping her son close to her side.

She found Rick pacing the cellblock, his hands clasped behind his head.

"Go check on Judith for me, okay?" she paused, running her thumb over Carl's cheek. The boy nodded, his eyes lingering on his father as he walked away. Once he was out of earshot, she turned back to Rick and held out her hand. "Come here?" she requested.

He turned to her, his face lined with anger, his brown pinched and creased. He looked to her hand, as though considering his options, then approached her, his fingers intertwining with hers.

Lori guided him into a hug, her arms sliding under his to wrap around his back. She held him, and he her for a long time, just breathing until his wound muscles began to uncoil and relax.

"It was my fault that Andrea was left behind," she broke the silence, tilting her head to bury it into his neck, her eyes closed. "That night at the farm, as we were getting into the car. I…" she sighed, too tired to get into the explanation. "It was my fault."

Lori had thought about that night often through the winter and even now. So much had happened and the guilt wore on her like extra weight, pulling her down. Andrea, Shane, Rick, Carl… so many had been hurt because of her actions.

"You didn't say anything," his hand drifted over the curve of her spine, up to cup the back of her head, securing her against him.

_You wouldn't listen_, she thought, swallowing the words and tucking them away inside her.


	8. Chapter 8

The baby fussed unhappily as Carol balanced her in one arm and folded laundry with the other. She had taken the baby off Lori's hands while the other woman took some time to spend alone with Rick. Carol had her hands full trying to keep Judith happy while getting her _To Do_ list finished, but she was happy to spend some time alone with the little one.

She loved the feel of Judith's dead-weight as she lay in her arms or across her chest, not to mention that new baby smell. She wished she could just bottle it up and carry it with her all the time.

The baby's emerging personality excited her too, and brought her hope every time she looked into her hazel eyes. She had expected to be reminded of Sophia, and she had expected it to hurt, but instead the baby brought her a sense of peace and joy that she had been missing for a long time.

After the meeting with Andrea she was confused about what to think. On one hand she wanted to trust the other woman – to accept her at face value. On the other hand she was wary of her and the power that this man, Phillip, seemed to have over her. She knew the destruction that could come from being blinded by a man - how he could twist love and make it into something dangerous.

Stepping out onto the upper level walkway she scanned the room. Lori and Rick had taken a seat on the floor under the far window and she smiled at the sight of them, Rick's hand pressed over Lori's abdomen, her head resting on his shoulder. She was glad that they were pulling together again and that they had been given another chance.

Looking down at the baby in her arms she found her sucking on her fist, the sleeve of her dress saturated with drool. A movement caught her eye as Andrea came through the door, strolling past Rick. Carol wondered if she was being cocky, but then caught the look on the other woman's face – she was mesmerized, being drawn in by the bundle in Carol's own arms. Carol knew the feeling.

Maybe Andrea was still their ally after all.

"You can't leave before meeting Little AssKicker," Carol approached the top of the stairs where Andrea was coming up. The nickname lightened the mood and she checked in with Lori for permission. The other woman eyed Andrea's back for a moment, then dropped her head wearily back to Rick's shoulder.

The smile on Andrea's face was infectious as she stepped in close. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course," Carol transferred the baby to the other woman's arms, making sure to cradle her head. "You got her?" she checked, moving her hands to support Andrea's.

"Yeah, I've got her," Andrea's voice was barely a whisper as she held Judith high on her chest. "Oh!" she crooned as Judith complained with a whine about being passed around. "Look at you!"

Carol watched the two of them, her hand stroking the baby's leg comfortingly, reassuring her that she was safe.

"Let me guess," Andrea watched Judith for a moment before looking up. "Daryl named her AssKicker."

Carol grinned, chuckling softly as she confirmed with a nod.

"That's not really her name."

"Judith," Carol supplied, watching the baby settle.

Andrea swayed, her hand lifting to hold the tiny one that the baby was sucking on. "Hi Judith," she soothed, rocking her. "How precious are you?" She kept her attention on the baby for a few moments before stiffening and glancing at Carol, then the couple still seated on the floor.

Lori had closed her eyes and Carol could see the telltale signs of her growing discomfort. She had grown paler as the day wore on and her brow kept creasing each time she moved. Rick leaned in to whisper to her and she nodded slowly in response as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"What happened to her?" Andrea asked, turning back to Carol.

Carol pulled her eyes away from the scene too, meeting Andrea's. "She had a c-section," she explained. "Maggie…" She felt emotional as she thought back to that day. "We almost lost her… we were sure we would. T-Dog died leading me to safety," she continued, offering a smile that she knew was more of a grimace. "That's when I found her," Carol spared another glance at Lori. "She'd already almost bled out by the time I got there… Carl was supposed to-," she let her words drop off.

"Oh my God," Andrea blurted, shaking her head, looking back down at the baby. "And Shane?" she asked.

"Rick killed him," Carol answered, her gaze wavering. "That night we left the farm… that whole Randall thing was a lie," she continued when Andrea shook her head doubtfully. "Shane tried to kill Rick."

"Shane loved Rick," Andrea countered, her voice thick with disbelief.

"Shane loved Lori," Carol corrected.

Andrea stared at the spot over Carol's shoulder, her body stiffening again as she processed the information. "Rick's become cold," she said ponderously, her eyes slowly shifting back to meet Carol's. "Unsteady," she added.

Carol nodded, turning to look at Judith. "He has his reasons," she conceded, tracing the plywood top of her workstation. She flinched inwardly as she thought about their argument that morning. Lori had been right – they needed to support Rick. They needed to be on his side, especially with the threat Woodbury looming over their heads. "The Governor," she blurted, accepting Judith back from Andrea. The baby mewed contentedly as she found her home back in Carol's familiar arms. "You need to do something."

"I am," Andrea insisted.

Carol ploughed onward, voicing the thoughts that had been circling in her mind since their meeting. "You need to sleep with him," she reasoned, glancing around to see if anyone else was listening. "Get him to drop his guard, and when he's sleeping, you can end this."

Andrea averted her eyes and Carol turned to the baby to give the other woman a moment to process her words.

XXXX

The concrete wall behind her was the only thing keeping her up and she leaned heavily against it, her hand finding Carol's forearm. Her friend had been unusually quiet since Andrea's departure, and Lori wondered if it had something to do with their conversation on the perch. Night had fallen over the prison, creating thick shadows around them that made the room feel cold. Rick wanted to keep their lighting to a minimum for security reasons. They'd eaten dinner picnic-style on a blanket on the floor, the immediate vicinity lit by a battery-powered lantern and a few flickering candles.

Footsteps upstairs caught her attention and she looked up to see Rick coming out of Carol's cell, cradling a bundle in his arm - Judith. The baby whined as he descended the stairs and he repositioned her so that she was resting closer to his chest. Lori could see her hands flexing, reaching for him with uncoordinated jerks. The movement made her smile and her heart skip a beat. Carol told her that Andrea had said Rick had gone cold, but watching him snuggling their daughter showed her the contrary; her Rick was still in there. He was just going through a rough patch.

Next to her Beth started singing, her sweet voice warm and filling the room. The young girl glanced over to Carol who finally smiled softly, the corners of her mouth turning up into an impish smile. Rick stopped at the bottom of the stairs, listening to Beth's singing, but his eyes were fixed on hers, dark and unwavering. He released her gaze after a moment to check in on Judith, muttering something so softly that Lori couldn't hear it.

She looked over to Glenn who took a seat next to Maggie on the stairs and smiled. She was glad to see them getting along again. Their young love made her feel a bit nostalgic for when she and Rick had been dating, then newlyweds. It felt like a lifetime ago. She missed how easy it had been when everything had been new and romantic.

She turned her head slowly to investigate the sound of shuffling behind her, finding Merle leaning against the iron-barred door. Lori wondered if it would ever feel normal to have the other Dixon brother back in their group – if he was even capable of fitting in. She thought back to their earlier exchange, his hardened line of questioning while he'd been watching her bathe her daughter. Maybe he'd come around eventually, but until then she'd keep her distance.

Turning back to the group her eyes blurred as a yawn caught her off guard. Without looking over, Carol lifted her arm and slid it around Lori's shoulders, pulling her towards her. Lori leaned into the embrace, her head finding her friend's slim shoulder. She yawned again, this time able to lift her hand in time to cover her mouth. Carol met her eyes and offered her a smile that Lori returned, foggy with sleep that had begun to cloud her thoughts.

Rick, Hershel, and Daryl had started a quiet conversation that she couldn't hear, but she caught Carl's name on her husband's lips. She quickly glanced around the room, realizing that her son had slipped out at some point.

"Did you see where Carl went?" she asked Carol, starting to sit up.

Carol's arm around her side kept her in place. "I'm sure he's fine," she assured softly, turning her attention back to Beth.

Lori settled back into her side reluctantly. Her friend was right – Carl was growing up so quickly. She could trust him to be safe in the prison. Raising her eyes she caught her husband's. His throat tightened as he swallowed, lifting his chin to indicate the stairs. She nodded, bracing her hands against the wall as she began to uncurl her legs, pushing herself to her feet. Carol's hands braced her lower back and one thigh, steadying her.

XXXX

Her husband led her to one of the cells on the upper level, furthest away from the occupied ones. He stopped next to the doorway, allowing her to pass him. Lori looked around the small space, her eyes sweeping the graffiti covered walls that she had scrubbed clean in the first week since arriving at the prison.

Rick followed her in and took a seat on the bottom bunk, Judith sleeping on his shoulder. Lori joined him and reached out to touch the baby's soft cheek, then fixed her blanket, waiting for him to begin.

"I'm going on a run back home," he finally stated, taking a deep breath before continuing to explain. "I left the armoury full at the station – I'm gonna clean it out."

Lori nodded, it made sense that they would need more weapons with the new threats.

"I'm taking Michonne," he said, patting Judith's back. "And Carl."

The second part of his announcement caught her off guard and she felt her eyes widen. "You're kidding me," she found herself blurting out the words. He barely flinched at her words, his eyes settling on the wall before them. "We are supposed to be protecting our children," she whispered more harshly than she intended, barely containing the urge to yell the words. "Not putting them in danger."

"That is exactly what I am trying to do," he snapped, turning to look at her. "We can't do this with empty chambers – Merle is right, that little engagement the other day was a show."

Lori glared at him, motioning shakily for the baby. His palm moved to cradle Judith's head and he leaned forward, easing her into his hands before he carefully passed her over. The tone of his voice, filled with frustration and resentment had her reeling, her heart pounding in her chest. Judith whimpered in her arms and she shushed the baby, pulling her blanket closed around her.

She flinched when he got to his feet and began stalking the length of the cell, his boots falling heavily against the cement floor. Lori watched his movements, scared that her opposition had set him off again – that he would spiral out of her reach… that they would go back to the way things had been all winter. Despite her fears she found herself nodding her consent, her throat a tight fist. "Okay," she agreed. "Whatever you think is best…"

"Don't do that," he growled, pushing his hand through his hair, turning around to meet her eyes. "Don't agree with me when you don't agree with me," he huffed.

Her throat heaved with a tiny sob and she lowered her head to look at Judith. "I don't know what you want me to say – you don't want me to argue but you don't want me to agree…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Lori," his hands landed on her knees as he kneeled down in front of her. "And if I do, I will come back."

Sniffing, she nodded, lifting her hand to swipe at the tears in her eyes. "I can't go back to the way things were, Rick. I can't live like that anymore."

He sighed, sliding one hand around the back of her head and the other to the small of her back, pulling her into a hug. "Carl's ready," he promised. "I'm going to protect our family, Lori."

XXXX

The next morning, she woke to the baby cooing from the corner of the room. Stretching out along the length of her husband she buried her face into his side, her lips finding the curve of his shoulder. Yawning, she slipped her hand low over his abdomen and gave him a light hug before opening her eyes. She was surprised to find that it was still dark out, and that Judith was no longer in her own bed, but in theirs, curled up in the crook of his neck.

Smiling softly Lori wrapped her hand around one tiny foot, and then pressed a kiss to its toes. "Morning," she whispered, resting one hand over his on their daughter's diaper covered bottom.

Rick, whose gaze had been fixed on the bunk above them, lowered his eyes to meet hers. He looked tired, and she hoped that it wasn't the baby keeping him up.

"I could have got her," Lori reminded him gently, tracing his mouth with her fingertips. Then over his cheekbone to his jaw. "You need your rest."

He finally smiled, just barely. "I'm rested," he assured her, easing Judith over to her.

She accepted the baby to her chest, rolling onto her back, watching him slip out of the bed. He immediately began to dress and she frowned. "You're leaving now?"

"Best we get out early," he stated, grabbing his shirt from the top bunk where she'd left a pile of washed clothes. "The sooner we get on the road the sooner we'll get there and be back."

Lori nodded, shifting towards the edge of the bed. She started to get awkwardly to her feet, attempting to juggle the baby in one arm while gripping the top bunk with her other hand. The c-section had done a number on the abdominal muscles, leaving her with almost no core strength to speak of.

Rick frowned and reached out, one hand finding her elbow and the other her lower back. "Here," he muttered, helping her to her feet.

"It's tougher with this little one and no free hands," Lori explained, now on her feet and almost nose to nose with him. Taking advantage of their new position she leaned in to kiss him properly, slipping her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. Judith squirmed between them and grunted her displeasure at being sandwiched, but Lori kept her attention on her husband. "You need a shave," she smiled, barely breaking contact.

"It isn't high on my list of priorities," Rick kissed her again, this time chastely, then again more slowly.

Lori hummed, sliding her cheek across his. "Good thing I don't mind the rugged look," she laughed softly, happy to have just a moment of normalcy before the fear and waiting game started up again. Rick's arms held her as closely as possible with the baby between them, and she took a moment to rest her cheek on his shoulder, just feeling his warmth and the contours of his body against hers.

A sound from just outside their cell broke their moment and she opened her eyes to find Michonne standing in the blue early morning shadows. She was already dressed to go, her katana strapped across her back. Lori met the woman's hard coal-like eyes and found herself pulling Rick even closer. "Wardens here," she whispered into his ear, reluctant to let him go.

Rick stepped back, offering her an apologetic smile. "We gotta go," he announced, kissing Judith's forehead.

"I'll get Carl," she offered. "I want to say goodbye."

Rick left her to get the car ready with Michonne and she headed upstairs. She counted the long row of dark cells until she found Carl's. Her son was still asleep on the top bunk and she stepped over the things strewn over his floor, careful not to trip. She came face to face with him and held her breath, not ready to wake him up just yet.

She took a moment to watch him sleep, his face placid and innocent, like when he was still a baby. Reaching up, she pushed his too long hair out of his face, smiling as she revealed the tiny freckles on his cheek and forehead. He stirred and opened his eyes, blinking slowly as though his brain hadn't caught up yet.

"Morning, baby," she greeted him. "Your Daddy's ready to go."

His eyes dilated, adjusting to the low light, and she felt like a spell had been broken. Sitting up he scrubbed his hand over his face and yawned widely. Lori took a step back to let him jump off the bunk, then started picking out something for him to wear.

"Mom, stop touching stuff," he grumbled, picking up a shirt off the ground. "I can dress myself."

Lori nodded, it was true. Though she wished sometimes he would just let her mother him a little bit. "Yeah, yeah," she mussed his hair and headed towards the door. "I'll bet you can feed yourself too – I'll have something ready for you downstairs."

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath before yawning again.

"And Carl?" she paused just outside his doorway. "Kick all your clothes into a pile so I can clean them."

Back downstairs in the common room she settled Judith on a pillow in the industrial baking pan that they'd used to bathe her. The baby looked around the room curiously, her soother bobbing as she sucked on it, her hands splayed across her chest as she sighed.

Lori got to work making peanut butter sandwiches for the road, and heating up some canned beans for breakfast. She added some powdered eggs to water as a treat for the trio and allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts. She tried not to worry too much about Rick and Carl. The town had pretty much emptied out early on, so she doubted there would be too many Walkers. And Michonne seemed to be pretty capable – odd, but capable.

While the others ate she picked at some beans and nursed Judith. She couldn't help but sneak glances at her boys, picking out their features and mannerisms, committing them to memory. She scolded herself, but couldn't seem to help it – one never knew in this world when the last time would be the last time. She sighed heavily at the thought, drawing Rick's eyes to her.

Lori consciously forced a smile, assuring him that she was fine. Reaching out to her he waited until she took his hand, his fingers knotting with hers. Her next smile was a genuine one, though teary. He got up and kept their hands locked as he pushed the rest of his eggs over to her and moved to stand behind her.

His breath was hot against her ear as he leaned over her shoulder. "I love you," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

"I love you too," Lori answered, turning to rest her forehead against his. He released his hold on her hand and touched Judith's forehead before heading for the door.

Carl gave her a quick hug and goodbye too, but took a bit more time with his sister. "Take good care of her, okay?" he requested, looking up to meet Lori's eyes.

"Cross my heart," Lori promised, pulling him in for another hug. "You take good care of yourself and your daddy, okay?"

He nodded, moving to follow Rick out.


End file.
